


sleepy? always

by dumbthiccdolans (sweetpca)



Category: Dolan Twins - Fandom, The Dolan Twins
Genre: F/M, Fluffy, Mentions of Anxiety, best friends taking care of each other, platonic, school stress, this is ooey gooey and i love it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-11
Updated: 2019-11-11
Packaged: 2021-01-27 20:01:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,971
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21397834
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sweetpca/pseuds/dumbthiccdolans
Summary: y/n was up all night studying for their finals, and immediately return to the dolan house so they can collapse onto the couch for a much needed nap. When y/n wakes up, grayson is in the kitchen over pots and pans, cooking her an actual home cooked meal for the first time in weeks.
Relationships: Grayson Dolan/Reader, Grayson Dolan/You
Kudos: 14





	sleepy? always

** _Fuck _ ** _ this. _

Her legs brought her to the exit, long strides taking her further away from the campus and toward her vehicle sitting in the parking lot on the east side. This was only her second year, and Y/N could already tell the electives she had chosen for the following term would kick her ass more than the ones she was currently struggling with. 

During the first twenty minutes, she completely spaced during her professor’s prattle about grading and expectations during the upcoming few weeks. As much as she was aiming to graduate with honors in another two years, her persistent anxiety made it seem impossible. Each and every miniscule bump came with profuse sweating and forgetfulness — the main culprit during her episodes, and certainly not one she needed during finals. 

The only prospect of hope she had was a means of distraction. What better way to keep preoccupied than to spend the afternoon with her two favourite Jersey boys, promising herself that she would finish her reading when her stomach wasn’t turning and her nerves were a little more calm. 

It's been two weeks of studying nonstop. No matter how hard she tries, Y/n can’t wrap her head around a quarter of her economics book. Was business her strong suit? Absolutely not. But she was required to take four electives for this term, and economics sounded better than the other options she was leftover. 

She was miserable, and tired — both of which didn’t help her overtaxed body and mind. 

Y/n didn’t need to knock. Ethan was making his way towards the living area from his bedroom when he saw her car pull into the lot and park behind Grayson’s Porche; she was met with a tired smile and puffy eyes, dark hair haphazardly sticking up in all directions. 

“Sleepy,” she greeted, feeling as drained as he looked. 

“Me? Always.” He lamented, voice thick with sleep; he invited her in, following behind her as she made her way towards the open space. “You?” 

“Always.” She mimicked. Definitely not always, but certainly more now than before. Y/n’s legs gave out the moment her knees hit the edge of the sofa cushions, sinking her weight into the softness with a groan. “I can’t do this. Econ’s kicking my ass.” 

“It’s almost over.” Ethan tried comfortingly.

“That’s not the point,” she sighed, hoping her reply didn’t sound too curt. The boys did nothing except bicker and banter all the time, but when it came to some of their friends dishing it back, they seemed to be sensitive. That was a boat Y/n tried hard not to rock. “The exam is next Friday, and I have no idea what the fuck is going on. I have two labs due, I’m still not done with my thesis paper, and I haven’t had anything but fried food for the last three weeks.” 

“You’ll figure it out, duckie.” It wasn’t the most charming nickname she’d be given, but it was one that the boys decided only they were allowed to call her. The ease with which it rolled off Ethan’s tongue was almost enough to melt all of her worries.

“What do you know about macroeconomics, hm?” She shot him a pointed look, which he met with an indifferent shrug. The boys understood where her anxiety came from. Perfection was an insecurity she clung to, and when she failed to meet her own standards she came down on herself hard. They knew what it felt like, they knew she struggled with it, but they didn’t entirely know how daunting it was being under so much academic pressure. 

Ethan and Grayson dealt with it all the time, they truly did. Just differently. Between their agency pressing for more new content, their family in need of support, and a fanbase tirading around the way they usually did, it was safe to say Ethan and Grayson were buried under pressure all the time. 

Perhaps it was the shared common humanity they had. It was rare to find anyone who genuinely understood you, Y/n was lucky enough to find not just one, but two.

Ethan didn’t move from his place on the adjacent couch, instead wrapped his arm around a pillow and rested his head, leaving the pair of them sitting in comfortable silence. It was only two heartbeats later she remembered that this was not the norm in the Dolan household.

“Hey, where’s Gray?” Y/n asked, lifting her head from the throw pillow she was resting on. It was never this quiet when he was home.

“Groceries,” the twin replied absently, eyes glued to the screen of his phone. “I think. I was still sleeping.” 

Of course. Grayson didn’t go anywhere without Ethan if he could help it, but of all the things his twin dreaded the most, it was grocery shopping. And Grayson preferred he stayed home — less crap for his brother to throw in the cart. 

After what felt like an hour of procrastinating and reading through her Twitter feed, she rolled over and propped one of the pillows between her knees, face moving down to use the back of the sofa to shield the light from her eyes; she only wanted to rest for a minute. She promised herself only a minute. Grayson would be back in no time, and then she’d be wide awake. 

Except, this was a dangerous game she was playing. She was too much like Ethan in the sense she could fall asleep for hours on end, preferred the solitude and comfort of a warm bed and thick blankets. Within five minutes, her breathing evened and slowed. The teen sitting across from her only noticed her unconscious frame when air dragged along the back of her throat gently, filling the silence in the living room with a quiet snore. 

His attention was momentarily drawn away from the cellular device in his palm. Following the outline of her hips and legs wrapped tightly together, the even rise and fall of her shoulders — Ethan’s hazel hues finally rested on the tangle of her hair, hair he constantly wanted to run his fingers through and free of knots. 

The teen drew his gaze away when he heard the engine of the Jeep revv outside, the sound cutting abruptly; he abandoned his seat and sprung towards the garage door, holding a finger up to his lips when his twin came into view.

Gray’s brows quivered together in the center, frame pausing in the threshold in confusion.

“Duckie came to visit,” he explained quietly, taking some of the bags from his brother’s hand. 

“I thought she had class?” Grayson said, the words coming out in more of a question as he leaned to the right, eyes glued to the hall leading to the main area as if he could really see her sleeping figure on his couch. 

Ethan could only shrug. He didn’t ask her about her visit, truthfully he didn’t care for the why — she wanted company, and they were always willing to oblige. 

Grayson was unsurprised to find her tucked into the cushions when they passed to pack away the grocery haul, his eyes flicking over to her sleeping frame occasionally whenever he happened to be facing her direction. When Ethan tried to rouse her, Grayson gave him a hard smack upside the head with furrowed brows. “You better not even _ try _.” 

“What, she gets the luxury of a nap and I don’t?” His twin asked incredulously, earning him another smack for the raise in tone. This time, he winced, two pairs of eyes frantically looking over to her when a soft whine interrupted their bickering. Her arm shot out above her head, legs stretching out before she sighed and relaxed again. Y/n’s cheeks were dusted in a gentle pink, the texture of the sofa imprinted onto her right cheek. The boys let out small sighs. 

“She doesn’t sleep in until noon, then take a nap two hours later.” Grayson replied dryly when it was safe, shoving his brother towards the kitchen to help him put the rest of the haul away. They moved like magnets, bodies dancing around each other to pack away the boxes and cans, more silent than usual due to the sleeping body on their sofa. 

They agreed to give her another hour. Ethan retired to his room, leaving Grayson alone at the dining room table seated in front of their Macbook to work on merch proposals. Part of him wanted to move her from the couch and into a bed. _ His _bed. He knew she passed out in her own living room too often, having spent most of her nights up until odd hours trying to cram in everything she could last minute. 

She was miserable. She was grumpy, and snapped more often than before. Y/n wasn’t taking care of herself, that much was obvious to Grayson. At least not with her exams around the corner, there was no telling when the last time she had a solid eight hours to rest, or a hot meal. 

The hours passed; Ethan messaged his brother to let him know when dinner was ready. Unsurprising that it would be him to cook tonight's meal.

The clock overhead of the television read 6:48. He was tired of staring at the blue screen, stomach of his own rumbling hungrily in need of something to eat. The truth was, Grayson loved cooking. He doesn’t necessarily watch videos or read recipes, but he’s got a good taste for creating yummy dishes. 

Pulling out fresh cremini mushrooms and spices, he began dicing them to fry, adding in flavour as he went until he was content with the aroma; he cut and grilled chicken in with them, thickening a pot of creamy sauce alongside it. He intended to serve the mixture over some noodles and drown it in parmesan, wondering if the girl on the couch even liked shallots and garlic.

It wasn’t exactly an award winning meal, but it was simple and eating it always made him feel a little more at home. 

It was the sound of running water that finally drew her from her slumber. Then, it was the scent of something cooking. Garlic. Parmesan. It smelled so good, she didn’t even want to roll over and fall back asleep; she rubbed her eyes tiredly, forgetting about the leftover mascara until her eyes were rimmed and the back of her hand was stained.

Unbothered, she stood and peered into the kitchen, a black tee stretched over the span of wide shoulders, attention focused so intently on his task at hand, he didn’t notice her presence until she was standing right next to him. 

Grayson’s eyes rested on hers, his chest falling at the sight of her puffy dark hues and the exhaustion that was draped over her shoulders like a blanket. Setting his spoon down, he lifted an arm and pulled her into his side, resting his head on top of hers with a tight squeeze. 

“What’s this for?” 

“You look like you needed one.” 

Y/n’s lips spread into a smile, arms happily entwining themselves around his waist as he rubbed soothing circles into her shoulder. Now within a foot of the delicious scents, her stomach gave an audible growl and whine, a sound Grayson couldn’t help but chuckle at. 

“I thought you might want something other than Kraft Dinner,” he mumbled into her hair, attention completed averted from the simmering sauce. “I hope you like mushrooms.” 

Absolutely not. But the way his eyes softened in hope and mouth twisted upwards in a smile, she couldn’t even think to break his spirits. “Love them.” She replied, hugging herself into his side again, this time relishing in the warmth his frame offered when his arms enveloped her entirely. 


End file.
